


Dreamscape Meetings

by Haganeko (dainpdf)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Series - murkybluematter
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dainpdf/pseuds/Haganeko
Summary: Since he was young, Severus Snape has had strange dream meetings with another self, from a different world. Now, as a very special year approaches, he finds himself sharing one very specific preoccupation with his alter ego: students with more bravery than sense.
Relationships: Severus Snape & Severus Snape (RBC)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 64
Collections: Rigel Black Exchange Round 1





	Dreamscape Meetings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eipthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eipthor/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Pureblood Pretense](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/39096) by murkybluematter. 



Severus Snape, Potions Master, Professor at Hogwarts, was not often described as a cheerful man. Still, his mood was particularly crestfallen this evening. It always was, this time of year.

Moments ago, the taciturn wizard had been in his quarters, waiting for sleep to claim him. Now he satin a dark, musty laboratory. It might have been one of the rooms in the Hogwarts Dungeons, but Severus knew every one of those, and this was not among them.

Sitting across from him, over a clean potioneer’s workbench, was a man bearing his exact likeness. Dark hair, uncared for and greasy from potion vapours, a hooked nose, and a grim look about him.

“So it has finally come to this,” said Severus’s alter ego. “You will teach Black’s get, and I, Potter’s.” He spat that latter name with what Severus felt was well-deserved contempt.

Severus frowned. “There may be hope yet, no? He _is_ Lily’s child, after all.”

“I doubt it. This whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense is bound to go to his head.”

Severus acquiesced. He had seen how adulation could ruin a child… if such things as children could be ruined at all, prideful and capricious as they all seemed to be.

“Add to it that the Headmaster has decided to transport the Philosopher’s Stone to Hogwarts this year. I can already imagine the number of students who will get wounded by foolishly attempting to brave its holding place.”

Severus did not blink. As a master Occlumens, he was in perfect control of his reactions. But he was surprised. “The Philosopher’s Stone… Does he expect it to be stolen?”

“Yes. He claims the Dark Lord will attempt to use it to recover his power. I only hope his fear is unfounded.”

* * *

Another year, another night spent in his own company. As Severus’s memory recovered their past meetings, he had a moment of anticipatory fatigue; if even he himself could barely accept he had taken a Black as an apprentice, how would his double believe it?

They had long decided not to keep secrets from each other; there was no sense in it, after all, seeing as their realities seemed to be completely separate, but still, Severus’s alter ego seemed to have the more pressing subject to bring forth.

“He came for it. The Dark Lord came for the Stone, and arrogant, reckless Potter just had to get himself and his friends in the middle of it.” His tone was more tired than incensed. “He does not care for rules or respect those whose task is to protect him. Just like his father.” Dark eyes peered at Severus beneath curtains of hair. “How was Black?”

“Pardon me… the Dark Lord invaded Hogwarts?” Severus understood Lord Riddle was quite a lot more violent on the other side. An attack on Hogwarts would have meant many deaths.

“He entered under the guise of a professor. Quirinus Quirrel.”

Severus was familiar with the man; he had, after all, contended with him during the Sleeping Sickness debacle. As his other self explained the man’s possession and eventual death, however, Severus felt a trickle of pity for him. As spineless and snobbish as the man was, he did not deserve such an end.

“...so the Headmaster gave them enough points to win the House Cup. But I suppose you must have been in a similarly bad position, considering you had a Black in Gryffindor.”

“He was actually Sorted into Slytherin.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“He was Sorted into Slytherin.”

“Oh.” The other Severus seemed thoughtful.

“And he has a genius for Potions I have seldom seen.”

Severus’s counterpart was visibly doubtful. “Are you sure he doesn’t cheat?”

“I am. In fact, Black managed to brew enough Snowhit Draught and Aurora’s Breath for the entirety of his yearmates in my absence.” Despite himself, Severus’s voice betrayed a smite of pride.

“A first year student!?”

Severus took a moment to enjoy the despair of being proven right.

“What did you need so much of these potions for? Did one of the students manage to so spectacularly fail to brew the Draught of Living Death?”

“Lord Riddle thought it would be to his political benefit should the students fall ill.” Severus proceeded to recount the year’s events to his increasingly flabbergasted double. By the end, the man only had one comment:

“I can only imagine Black’s face.”

* * *

Severus was surprised when he came to in the dream room. He had been so busy with his investigation into the basilisk scales, he’d lost track of the date. A grim reminder it was that the new school year was upon him, bringing with it a completely new collection of first years to nanny.

“Black killed a basilisk,” he offered the Severus across the table.

“So did Potter.” The man’s tone left no doubt as to what he thought of the way the boy had accomplished it. Considering the boy was a Gryffindor, it probably involved a lot of brawn and little brain.

“Is he a Parselmouth?” It was an interesting coincidence that the gift should manifest in both their pupils; as far as Severus knew, Heiress Potter did not have the talent.

“Yes, as he revealed to the entire school in pursuit of a childish grudge against Draco.”

“At least that gives you access to the basilisk’s remains. By your description, I doubt Potter would know what to do with it.” Which was no small thing; basilisks were exceedingly rare.

“Bits of it. Potter’s lack of knowledge meant he delayed. By the time he allowed others access to the Chamber, much of the precious materials had spoiled.”

Severus choked; such a waste was borderline criminal. Then again, perhaps Potter had gotten even more wounded than Black; from his counterpart’s descriptions, the boy got off more on luck and the protections of others than any genuine skill.

“I have met Heiress Potter,” he said, as a change of subject.

His alter ego’s eyes gleamed with schadenfreude. “In what context?”

“An internship at the Potioneers’ Guild.” Severus said. “She is as dedicated as Black. If anything, she has proven a determined researcher. I am sure you recall the situation of women in the Guild.” Severus felt a bit bad for his counterpart; even his Potter spawn was the superior one.

The other Severus then demanded to know how she had impressed him so; this occupied them for a while. There were no Guilds in the other reality, no organization to the crafts. Severus sometimes wondered how that wizarding society had managed to achieve similar advancement to his with such backwards ways.

“Ah, yes. Black has escaped captivity. Eluded the dementors.”

Severus was impressed, despite himself. Then again, Black’s failing had never been one of sheer power. “Off to attack Potter, I assume.” Always seemed to be, with that one. When trouble did not find him, he found it. A bit like Black.

“The boy himself ran out of home when he found out. This to compound his antics with Weasley and his flying car.”

“Flying car?”

“With all the commotion at year’s end, I forgot to mention. Weasley and Potter thought to catch attention by missing the Express, then driving a flying car through the country and into the Whomping Willow.”

Truly, Severus had the better Potter.

* * *

It was a weary Severus that awoke in the meeting room. He had been plagued, of late, by visions of a young boy in a cave, forced to survive off of his Potions ingredients. All of this right under Severus’s nose. If the rogue actors who attacked during the World Cup (and how similar they were, he now realized, to the followers of the Dark Lord from the alternate timeline) were to attempt something… He felt a surge of sympathy for the man across the table, charged as he was with protecting a reckless Potter from his own arrogance.

“There was an attack at the Quidditch World Cup”, they both started.

Severus waved his hand. “You first.”

“Former Death Eaters appeared during the event, torturing muggles and setting fire to things. The Dark Mark was cast.”

Severus still thought the name of the group quite silly. Then again, Lord Riddle had apparently stuck with his teenage moniker of “Lord Voldemort”, so silly names abounded.

“The Dark Mark itself,” the alternate began, “has been growing clearer as the days pass. He is building his strength.”

Severus nodded. “Another suspicious coincidence. Anti-muggle extremists struck at our World Cup, nearly murdering those in the Minister’sbox.” Including one Potter with more bravery than sense. A shared trait between cousins.

“To make matters worse, Potter and his pet werewolf somehow helped Black escape custody.” The sneer on his alter ego’s face was, Severus felt, appropriate. “They tell a story that Black was innocent, framed by Peter Pettigrew. Claim he was an unregistered animagus. Shows you they will turn on their dead friends in the end.”

At the mention of that name, Severus mood took a down turn. He would kill the man himself, were he not already dead. “Pettigrew has revealed himself a more dangerous man than previously thought,” Severus admonished. “He was, in fact, an animagus in the employ of Lord Riddle.” Much as it pained him to admit, Black might be innocent… of _this_ crime.

“We know there is little correlation between our versions of the world,” Severus’s counterpart replied. “Be as it may, we are now fast on track for a Triwizard Tournament. The rules state no wizard or witch under seventeen years of age may compete, yet I doubt that will deter Potter.”

Severus could understand the sentiment. “Lord Riddle is preparing for something similar. I fear he wishes Black to compete. He sees him as an heir to his legacy.”

“I don’t doubt he will succeed. The Dark Lord has always had a talent for manipulation.” It was moments like this that reminded Severus his alternate self had lived through a war. The way he spoke about this Dark Lord… ruthless though Lord Riddle may be, he had not murdered half the wizarding population of Great Britain in civil war.

“What worries me is to what lengths he will have to go to coerce him. Black has been stubborn of late. Lord Riddle does not understand the boy, cannot understand him, and so he stumbles. I fear he may feel impelled to threaten great retribution to get Black to comply.”

His counterpart muttered only: “He will have the power the Dark Lord knows not...”

Recognizing the line, Severus woke up in confused cold sweat.


End file.
